Of Roses and Thorns
by katbybee
Summary: This is for ALL the survivors out there. May we all not just SURVIVE but THRIVE! HUGS. I wanted to raise awareness of the other side of the issue. This was the hardest project I have ever completed. Readers have requested a sequel beyond the epilogue. Due to my own experiences, I must respectfully decline. God bless you all. Violence/Strong Language. Don't own. R/R.
1. The One

Chapter One—The One

 _Melinda._ Johnny Gage smiled as he shaved. He hurried, running slightly late. The weekend had been incredible, and he didn't want to ruin it now by ending up on latrine duty _. Ahhh, speaking of Melinda…_ he grinned as the beautiful blonde placed her well-tanned arms around his middle and began tickling him gently. Her long, hot-pink nails made targets of his somewhat scratched up shoulders and ribs. It _had been_ a wild weekend, after all…! "Careful!" he growled playfully. "Don't wanna have to bandage my own throat, y'know!"

"Johnny-cakes," the blonde pouted prettily, "do you really have to go? Please stay with me! I just _hate_ being alone. We could—"

"Melinda, you know I gotta go to work. I can't just take off. People depend on me. My partner depends on me, too. Besides, I love my job!"

By this point, John was toweling off his face and missed the fleeting look of irritation on Melinda's lovely face. _His job—again!_

By the time he turned around, she was smiling seductively at him, and tugging at the waistband of his jeans. "Are you sure I can't talk you into something more interesting this morning than your _job_?"

This time, Johnny caught the slight sarcasm, and frowned. "No, Melinda. I gotta go." Johnny silently reached for his shirt, and Melinda realized she had pushed him too far.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry! It's just that I'm still not used to all this—you know—the danger and everything! I just want to keep you here safe; with me! I don't ever want anything to hurt you…ever!" The whine in her voice was impish, but calculated.

Johnny immediately softened, as Melinda had known he would… the way he always did whenever they argued, whenever things didn't go the way she planned. Oh, yes, she could read her firefighter like a book. The last six months with him had proven _that_ beyond a shadow of a doubt. And Melinda knew, too, that he was The One. As Johnny leaned in to kiss her deeply, Melinda nearly wept in triumph. Johnny was hers! _Her_ man. _Forever._

And then Johnny was late for work. Again. For the second time in less than a month. And he was so busted. And he had nobody to blame but himself. And what was worse—he knew it.

He was furious with himself, and trying desperately to come up with a plausible excuse. The truth certainly wouldn't work. "Sorry, Cap, I'm shacked up with a chick I just can't say no to?!" That sounded just too sordid, even to him. Besides, it wasn't really true. Melinda was _different_ than any other girl—er—woman he had ever known. She was beautiful; sophisticated; cultured; mysterious; totally comfortable in her own skin. She had some odd tastes, true, but that was okay. He was getting used to them. He just wasn't used to a woman being so—well, _demanding_ , in bed. And was she ever! But she was great; she was, well, maybe, she was finally The One! She—

Here Johnny's thoughts were interrupted when he made the turn into the station parking lot. _The squad was gone_ , and he was totally unnerved at the sight of his stormy-eyed Captain standing in front of Big Red, jerking a thumb towards his office. Surely, he wasn't that late! He shot a horrified glance at his watch as he hustled towards Cap's office…"0915?!" He squeaked out loud. "Oh, shit!" _He was over an hour late!_

Captain Hank Stanley was not happy with his junior paramedic. "You want to explain why you show up an hour late with no phone call?! Good thing Dwyer just happened to be here from filling in on last shift. He went out on _your_ first call…with _your_ partner…who managed to make it on time for his shift! Now I gotta justify OT for Dwyer, because you couldn't drag your butt outta bed on time! _Again!_ Am I missing anything?!"

Hank, not normally one to shout, found his voice rising steadily as he reached the end of his tirade. The miserable young man in front of him refused to meet his eyes. Barely whispering, he replied, "No, Sir." In a calmer voice, Stanley relented some. He was genuinely concerned about Gage. This behavior was not like him at all. "Look, Johnny, what's going on? Are you okay?"

Still refusing to meet Cap's eyes, Johnny simply replied, "I just screwed up. It won't happen again, Cap. I swear." Hank knew there was more to it, but knew that making Johnny talk, when he didn't want to, was also a lost cause. He sighed heavily and regarded the younger man for a moment. "Okay. My door is always open. You know that." Johnny nodded silently. Knowing Cap couldn't simply let this go, John quietly asked, "Now what happens?"

Stanley admired this young man, precisely because his sense of honor and duty had made him ask the question most men wouldn't ask. He sighed again, and answered John honestly. "One more this quarter and it goes to HQ. As it is, I'm putting it down as personal time and docking you three hours, to cover Dwyer's OT. More if they stay out much longer. And, you draw latrine duty for the next three shifts."

Johnny's eyes brightened as he looked at his Captain for the first time. "You're not putting a reprimand in my record?"

"Not this time, but I do have a question, and I want an honest answer, John." His tone was serious.

"Yessir."

"What's her name?"

John simply grinned and shook his head, unaware of the blush stealing up his neck, which provided his captain all the answer he needed. Stanley smiled and sent him to get ready for his shift.

Johnny thought about Cap's question as he changed into his uniform. He wasn't really sure why he had kept his relationship with Melinda such a complete secret. He had never even told Roy about her, and they had been dating exclusively for almost six months now. The time had just never seemed right, and she was so different, so much more mature, than all the other girls that he'd gone out with. The problem was, he wasn't sure Roy would like her. That sounded dumb, maybe, but there it was. Johnny was head over heels about this woman, but he was just not sure she would fit in with his friends. He would have to ease her into their lives very slowly. For one thing, she hated what he did for a living. She was terrified he was going to get hurt one day and leave her alone. She didn't understand how the wives and girlfriends could be a support system for each other and for their men. He was sure that would change, as she learned more about his friends and their families, though.

For the other, she was kind of; well, possessive, of his time with her. She preferred spending their time alone together. She just wasn't into group activities was all. That was okay with him, because she could think up some really wild things for them to do together! If time with his other friends was slipping away, well, they would just have to realize that was what happened when you finally found The One.

For her part, Melinda was ecstatic things were moving along so well. John was the most wonderful man she had ever known, even if he was somewhat unruly and… _disobedient_ at times. But she was confident she could train that out of him. And she would. Just as soon as he agreed to allowing her to move out to his ranch with him on a permanent basis. Things were much more—peaceful—there. Oh, yes, after much trial and error, she had finally found The One!


	2. The First Time

The First Time

Melinda was deliriously, deliciously happy. Johnny had finally agreed to have her move out to his beloved ranched with him. She had even gotten him to agree to build her a studio on the property…silly boy! He stupidly agreed a lock was a good idea, because, after all, artist's supplies _were_ expensive. She never opened the tightly drawn drapes, nor invited him into the studio when he was home, claiming it as her sanctuary. Johnny never questioned her, feeling everyone needed their own space. His was the barn, and the horses, which Melinda never came near. He never knew about the second lock…the once she had installed herself; on the _inside_ of the door.

The first time it happened, it really was an accident. Melinda hadn't meant to get so rough with Johnny. She wasn't even all that angry with him. Just a little…frustrated. She had thought when he had three days off, he would put the station and his work behind him, but she quickly discovered that was not the way it was at all.

He had come home with some books of tickets for some ridiculous Fireman's Picnic he was selling. It seemed he had won a trip to Las Vegas the year before, and wanted to try to win the waterbed this year. He playfully asked her if she wanted to buy a ticket, and she could have screamed.

"Can't you think about anything but work, just for five minutes, John?"

Johnny's head canted to the left in surprise. "What are you talkin' about?!" His voice began to rise. "These are tickets for a charity. I sell 'em every year! What's your problem?!"

Her not-so-lovely blue eyes snapped in rage. She slapped him sharply as she lost her temper with his constant obsession with work. Instantly she regretted her actions, and she fawned over the shocked young fireman, who had gasped and pulled away.

"Oh, baby! I'm so sorry!" She immediately put her arms around Johnny and turned his face towards her. "I didn't mean to do that! I am so very sorry! Can you forgive me? Johnny-cakes, I didn't mean to lose my temper with you. It's just that I have so many plans for us during your time off, and I just don't want anything to get in the way. Can you understand? I never meant to hurt you! Please? Can we just move on? You know I love you, right?" Melinda's rapid-fire barrage of words was beginning to confuse Johnny, and besides, his jaw didn't _really_ hurt. It wasn't that big a deal. He smiled and wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. He needed to comfort her; let her know she hadn't really hurt him. He would do anything to wipe the hurt from her beautiful blue eyes…

Melinda watched as the tentative smile spread over John's bruised face, then as it grew into his full charming grin. He wiped away her tears and began to caress her tenderly. When he kissed her passionately, and the book of tickets lay forgotten on the bedroom floor, she knew she had him right where she wanted him. After he fell asleep, she dropped the tickets into the trashcan. Johnny forgot all about them, and oddly, he sold very few tickets for the picnic that year.

By the time he returned to work after the three days off, the bruise had faded somewhat. He passed it off as a stable accident, and nobody was the wiser. Johnny himself had never given it another thought. It was certainly not the first time he had been slapped by a young lady, and he doubted it would be the last. Besides, making up was fun…He grinned to himself as he got ready for shift. John Roderick Gage had no idea that his life was headed down a road he would never have wished on his worst enemy, if he'd had one.

The accident that put him off-shift for ten days was actually kind of a dumb one. He cracked his collar-bone on the floor of a commercial kitchen that was coated in cooking oil. Seems somebody needed to move a pallet of cooking oil from the storage room to the main pantry and they got the bright idea to use a small forklift to do it, aaaaaand, well, things went downhill rapidly. The restaurant owner put in the call to rescue the guy who flipped the forklift; Sam Lanier toned out 51's; and Johnny wound up with a cracked collarbone. Again. Wasn't all that bad, but required bed rest for a few days, and no heavy lifting for ten days…which equaled out to about four shifts off. He grinned, his eyes dancing. Oh, damn. For the first time, he wasn't upset about the time off. Not at all!

For Melinda's part, she was absolutely thrilled at the turn of events. She couldn't believe her luck! She would have Johnny all to herself for ten whole days. She had gotten the call from him at the station as he had gotten ready to leave. She had reminded him to bring home his laundry, and drop off his uniforms at the cleaners on the way home. She would run to the market and restock their supplies; _and pick up a few special items while she was at it,_ she smiled to herself. It was a good thing she was a careful planner. She had already ordered everything she needed, and all she had to do was drop by the post office on her way home from the market. With any luck, she would be home before Johnny, and he would never even see the plain brown boxes, or their contents…at least not before she had everything ready.

Sure enough, there was no sign of the white Land Rover a couple of hours later as Melinda pulled up into her usual spot in John's driveway. Normally, this would bother Melinda to no end, because it meant she didn't know exactly where he was. For now, she decided to let her irritation with her wayward fireman go, and use the unexpected time to her advantage. She would deal with his slowness in getting home later.

First, she unlocked her private sanctuary and stowed the boxes from the post office in there, and locked it quickly. There was no rush to set up. There would be plenty of time, later. Next, she stowed the groceries in the pantry and the large refrigerator and freezer. Finally, she hid the clothing she had bought in her closet. No use to let him see that too soon…it would only upset the poor boy! She gave a small chuckle as she thought of him dressed in the totally out of character clothing! But ohhh, how delicious he was going to look! Positively…yummy!

She pulled herself out of her musings as she head the crunch of tires on the gravel outside. She turned to greet her fireman and found herself face to face with— _NONONONONONO!_ Melinda thought to herself, _this positively CANNOT be happening!_

Helping Johnny out of the passenger seat of a gold Porsche was his meddling partner Roy! She had seen his photo once from a newspaper clipping John had shown her.

For his part, Roy couldn't help but stare at the gorgeous blonde woman staring at him from the porch. The thing that struck him most was that, though she seemed to be smiling, she had the coldest blue eyes he had ever seen. It was also obvious in that split second, she absolutely hated him! Her expression changed so quickly, he almost wondered if he had imagined it. He could have imagined it…but somehow, he doubted it. She became warm and loving with Johnny, helping Roy get him into the house, and taking very good care of him. He left the couple, but wondered why in the world Johnny had never before mentioned he had a woman living with him at his ranch. Sometimes he just didn't understand his partner. Johnny could take "private life" to a whole new level. And Roy could respect that.


	3. Disturbing Tendencies

Chapter Three—Disturbing Tendencies

By the time Johnny realized there was something seriously wrong with the woman he loved, it was far too late. The first inkling of danger came when he discovered that the horses were not in their stalls. Melinda had told him she had had a "friend" come and take them away, as she wanted him all to herself for a while. Since this caught him totally off guard, he wasn't at all ready for her next move. She had realized he wasn't likely to trust her with anything to eat or drink at this point. Fortunately, she was prepared for this, and, as he frantically searched for any sign of his beloved horses, he felt the sting of a needle through his jeans into his thigh. His hurt and confused eyes met hers for only a moment before he collapsed into her arms. The last sound he heard was her low chuckle as his world went dark.

When he opened his eyes, John realized he was in big trouble. He was lying completely naked on a mattress in a small room, and he had not a clue where he was. There was no sign of his clothes, and the door was locked. The windows had been boarded over, in what looked like a fairly hasty, but thorough, job. There was nothing in his prison but a bucket and a couple of blankets. It was also hot. Memories of Melinda, his missing horses and the sting of the needle suddenly slammed into his brain.

He spent the first few minutes in a panic hollering for help, which got him nowhere. After his voice started to go hoarse, he stopped, deciding apparently no one was coming to rescue him.

He took a better look at the walls and realized he was imprisoned inside Melinda's "studio." And judging from some of the photos and leather and metal items hanging on the walls, he was in even bigger trouble than he had thought…

"Oh, crap, Gage," he mumbled to himself. "Can you pick 'em or what?!"

~E!~

An hour later, an envelope was shoved under the door. John, totally irritated by this time, ripped it open, to read the contents. The letter, insane as it was, was very clear:

 _My Forever Love:_

 _Don't bother calling for help. As you have probably discovered, no one is around to hear you. You have also realized there is no food or water available. These must be earned. In order to earn them, you must please me and do exactly as I tell you. Don't worry, you will have ample opportunity to do so. I have no intention of starving you or seeing you go thirsty. I realize also that it is very hot in there. You may be wondering why that is, since you were kind enough to hook up air-conditioning for me. It is because I had a friend re-wire the thermostat so that it can only be controlled from the outside. I am not without mercy. It is simply another privilege you must earn._

 _You may be wondering why I am doing this. I will tell you, baby-cakes. I require obedience. It is simple as that. You are a wonderful man, and I honestly believe that you are the One for me, but, you have some disturbing tendencies, and even more disturbing loyalties, which I intend to crush out of you over the next ten days. Only then can we both find true happiness together. Do not worry my darling, I have no intention of inflicting any_ _permanent_ _damage, and the sooner you come to obedience, and subservience, the sooner our lessons will come to an end._

 _In the meantime, darling, in order to earn your first reward, a bucket of clean drinking water, look over in the far corner of the room. You will find a small brown box. Open it and then put the item on. Be aware I have a camera hidden in this room, so I can see everything you do. If you do what you are told, you will receive your reward. If you do not, you will receive no water._

 _By the way, your Captain received a message that you are camping for ten days, and have boarded your horses. No one will come looking for you. If you decide to disobey, I will simply leave you there._

 _Your move, my love._

 _Melinda_

Johnny became nauseated as he read the letter, and thought he was going to become vitally ill, but he managed to hold himself together. One part of him wanted no part of this woman's sick games, but the other part of him told him he needed to play along in order to survive; in order to figure out a way to escape.

The thought she was watching him really aggravated him, and he considered flipping her a bird for a moment, but he reigned in the thought as quickly as it had come. No use making things worse. He spotted the box and picked it up. It was very light-weight. It took him a few minutes to get the tape off, since he usually opened things with his knife. He dumped out the packing material and froze when he pulled out the contents.

He held it up in one hand, humiliation flooding his entire body. He yelled at his unseen tormentor. "You have got to be kidding me! No way, you bitch!" And he flung the spiked dog collar across the room.

~51~

Melinda watched from the comfort of Johnny's sofa. Her friend had rigged the closed-circuit system the day before, and it was working perfectly. She relaxed, nibbling on a shrimp cocktail as she watched her lover read the letter. She tapped her nails impatiently on the edge of her champagne glass as his expressions changed as he read. It was possible he wouldn't pick up the box, but she was betting he would. He was so—predictable. Aaand…she crowed with delight! He tossed a look of defiance as he crossed the room (Sooooo predictable!) but he did take the box back to the mattress and open it. His look of disgust and anger when he discovered the dog collar was absolutely…priceless!

Melinda frowned when Johnny yelled at her and called her names. That was certainly uncalled for. Well. He could just think about things for a while. Even if he had gone ahead and put the collar on at that point, she certainly wasn't going to be bringing him any water for a while. Maybe tomorrow. If he put the collar on. And if he apologized. She might be a lot of things…but she was not a bitch. How dare he?

~TBC~


	4. Captive

Johnny eventually sat back on the mattress. He glowered at the camera and refused to pick up the odious collar at all. He had realized she could see his every move, but he also knew that wasting his energy ranting wasn't going to get him anywhere. What he had to do was calm down and think.

Another thought crossed his mind. She would be enjoying his rage. And so, he would not oblige her. He knew no water or food was likely coming his way anytime soon. The food was not a problem. He had done without before. Water was more problematic, but again, not an impossible situation. His major advantage was that Melinda had never wanted to hear much about his childhood, or the reservation; not that he talked much about them anyway. She had no idea of what Johnny was capable. She had no idea that he had spent his youth preparing for his Vision Quest…preparing to become a man. She had no idea what was involved. And he would use those preparations now.

He turned and lay facing away from the camera. He refused to give her any more satisfaction than he had to. He was not ready to give up on escape…but he needed know if he could still do it. It had been years. He began to measure his breathing…counting each breath slowly. In. Out. In. Out. He concentrated on nothing else but his breathing.

Eventually he felt it happen. His body felt light, and the world around him seemed to fall away. For a short time, he allowed his spirit to fly from his prison. And he experienced the sort of freedom he had not felt since he was a boy. There were no words to describe the feeling. And he would never try. After an hour or so, he willed himself back to the shed…and when he opened his eyes, it was dark and cold.

He smiled grimly. He had done it! He had a way out…if all else failed, he had a way out. He would never allow her to break him. He reflected on their relationship. He had known it was wrong. Had known it all along. So, why had he done it? Why had he stayed with Melinda? Any other girl, he would have left after the first fight. He had never let anyone in his adult life treat him badly. Why her? Why had he taken it for so long?

And in his heart of hearts, Johnny knew. His constant serial dating, dumping girl after girl—even some really nice girls—was because he wasn't good enough for them, and eventually, if he got serious with them, they would realize it. And with Melinda…well, he didn't have to worry about that. Yeah, she had hurt him sometimes, but she made no real demands on him—at least nothing that he had not been willing to give. And that confused him. So, was all this his fault? He shook his head, which was beginning to hurt badly again. No. _This was not his fault. Isn't that what they always told victims of…_

His mind shied away. No. Not that. He was a guy. And that did not happen to guys. It just…didn't.

He judged by the chill in the room that it was late. Well, she had to sleep sometime!

He began to prowl experimentally around the walls of the shed again. He had to hand it to her. His prison was sealed quite well. The only escape was through the locked door. Well, then, if he could not escape on his own, he was going to have to get her to open the door. And he had a feeling sweet talk was not going to do it. He had a long day ahead of him, and since he had determined she must have fallen asleep, he decided to do the same.

~E!~

Early the next morning, almost as soon as he opened his eyes, Johnny put his plan into action. He turned towards the camera and smiled mockingly. "It's not gonna work, you know. I'm on to you. You might as well open the door. I am never gonna put that stupid collar on. I put up with a lot out of you. I'm through. We're through."

The silence was deafening, and for a long time, Johnny thought she was not going to respond.

Eventually, Melinda's honeyed tones came over a hidden speaker. "Now, now, love…no reason to be so testy. You just need a bit more time to think things over. And we have plenty of time."

 _Good_ , Johnny thought darkly. _She_ is _listening._ "Why don't you come out here and we'll talk about it, then?"

She sounded annoyed. "Do what I told you to do. Then we will talk."

Johnny grinned. "No dice. You want a puppy, you're gonna have to go buy one. I suggest a Rottweiler, or maybe a Doberman…they'd fit your personality nicely."

There was a hiss of static and a sudden click. Then silence.

John waited, but there was nothing more. He realized he may have overplayed his hand, but he also knew he had to get her angry enough to come out and open the door. If he could just get her out there, he knew that he could get out of the damned shed.

After a while, the continued silence began to unnerve him, and he wondered what she was up to. He might be young, but one thing he had learned…silence, when it came to children and enemies, was never a good thing. The worst part about it was that there was nothing he could do about it. So, he settled back to wait and see what Melinda would do next.

~E!~

Johnny got his answer perhaps an hour later. He was dozing slightly when Melinda's voice coming from the speaker startled him. "I'm leaving now, John. I am done with you." The speaker clicked off.

Confused, Johnny tried to shout at her, but after so long without water, it was hard. "What do you mean, you're done?"

There was only silence for a few minutes, until he heard noise coming from outside. He strained to try to figure out what it was. Footsteps, and something being carried, or moved! He pounded on the wall of the shed, but there was no reply, no answer.

The sounds went on for another half-hour or so, and then Johnny heard a car trunk being closed. It suddenly hit him. She was leaving the ranch… going somewhere. Leaving him. He thought about what she said about being done. She wasn't coming back. He refused to play her game, so she was leaving.

His suspicions were confirmed when he heard her car start. He had thought she would just drive away without a word, but he was wrong. Apparently, she pulled up close to the shed, as he could smell the exhaust from her car. She must have had the top down on her convertible, because he heard her voice quite clearly as she pulled away, "Goodbye, John! Good luck finding your horses!"

~TBC~


	5. Reaching Out

It didn't take long for John to realize that he was, indeed, alone, and that Melinda was apparently not coming back. He sat for a moment, analyzing his changed circumstances. He tried once more to see if he could break through the walls of the shed at any point. It was still no good.

He was still in big trouble, even though she was gone. He sat quietly as he thought about his options. He realized there weren't many. He knew physically he could withstand not eating for several days. He had done that many times over the course of his life. Water was the biggest problem. Normally, he would be able to handle it for several days…by being prepared beforehand. He had done it before. But this was different. He had not been prepared at all.

Ruefully, he thought about that. He should have been. He should have listened to his gut. But she had been so perfect for him…she had made him feel so mature and special…like he was the only one that mattered. But then, she would hit, or scream at him. At first, it was easy to ignore it. But then…when it got worse, he should have walked away…just dumped her.

And not for the first time, he admitted the real problem. He felt he deserved crappy relationships. And he didn't mind being treated like dirt. Because then, he could play the love and leave 'em game. He could play the cad. It was a role he knew well. He had never been able to maintain a decent relationship with anyone. Except for Roy and his family. And that didn't count.

He lay back on the mattress, and let his mind drift. It wasn't long before he was floating… letting himself fly from the shed, as he had done when he was a kid. He had learned how to do it back on the res, and it seemed to help, anytime he was hurt or sick…or trapped. He also realized this situation was vastly different, in that rescue would not be forthcoming, and there was no one he could rely on. Well, maybe that part wasn't so different. John had spent most of his life, outside of work, relying on only himself.

He finally fell asleep, and allowed himself to sleep deeply. It wasn't like he had any pressing engagements…and he knew his body would begin to shut down as time went along. He would need to conserve every molecule of energy he could.

~E!~

He awoke hours later. It was cold, and he could see nothing. He knew then that night had fallen. His thirst was terrible…almost painful. He realized he had slept all day and at least part of the night. This was good, because despite the thirst, he did feel better. And he lay back, thinking about his friends, and memories he had of working with them, playing with them, and even camping and fishing with them. It was rare that he shared his camping trips with anyone, preferring solitude. Despite his reputation with the ladies, he had never taken a woman camping with him. He had met girls while he was camping, but never knew one he wanted to share that part of his life with.

He took that thought off the shelf and looked it over very carefully. _Maybe that was what was wrong...maybe it wasn't just that he had lousy taste in women, or that he didn't deserve a good woman. He had never met one who really_ liked _him. Chicks dug him, yeah, and he flirted with them constantly. But, other than Dixie, he didn't know any female who actually liked him. Tolerated him, dated him, slept with him, yeah…but not "liked." Dixie didn't count, because she was more like a big sister to him, and if he ever told her about the crush he had had on her when they first met, she probably would have laughed at him. No,_ he amended that thought. _Of all the people in his life, Dixie would never laugh at him._

Exhausted by the self-analysis, and with no better options at the moment, Johnny used a trick his grandfather had taught him when he was very young. He pictured himself lying on a blanket, out under the stars. He watched the stars intently, allowing his spirit to lose itself amongst the stars. Soon, his breathing slowed, and he was asleep again, his mind wandering where it wished. And for a time, John was at peace. And when awoke the next time, sickness had come, and somewhere deep in his fevered brain, John the paramedic knew the hallucinations weren't real. But for John, the prisoner? They scared the hell out of him.

~E!~

Roy and JoAnne had decided to use his three days off to take a short road trip. It was something they had done often over the course of their lives together. The kids were both staying with friends, so they had no worries there. They packed a duffle bag and jumped into the Porsche, with absolutely no idea where they were going. It was part of the magic of these trips. They never knew the destination, but they enjoyed the daylights out of the journey.

This time, when they hit the edge of the city, Roy asked the standard question. "Coast, mountains, city, desert?"

JoAnne thought for just a moment. She smiled as she said, "Coast."

Roy grinned, and put his arm around her. He never knew what she would say, and it was always interesting, no matter where they ended up. But he had a special fondness for the California coast, and he loved driving along it. On one of their longer trips, they had driven up the coast, and ended up in San Francisco…a city they both loved.

This time they drove for hours, exploring some of the small towns along the way. One of the few rules of their road trips was that they would travel only as far as they wished, and stop when they got tired, or found somewhere interesting they wanted to explore. And they rarely drove on the freeway, unless it was necessary.

In that way, they came to a lovely seaside resort about 200 miles north of Los Angeles. Since it had taken all day to get there, at their slow pace, Roy figured they could stay two nights, and then head home. He could then be ready for work the following day. And a few hours later, well-rested and well-loved, Roy and JoAnne sat on the balcony of their room in the old Victorian hotel, sipping iced tea and watching the restless ocean; completely content.

The first night and day passed lazily and peacefully. Roy had always had a hard time relaxing and putting his worries behind him, but this time was different, and JoAnne was thrilled. She was very proud of her husband, but felt he worked much too hard, and sometimes put too much of himself into his job. But she also would never try to change him. She had loved him from the day they met, back in grade school. And when you love someone, you accept them for who they are. Perhaps it was growing up together that made her feel that way, but likely it was just true and deep respect and love. As Joanne snuggled into "her guy," as they lay in bed that second night, she decided to stop thinking about it, and just enjoy it.

JoAnne was shocked a few hours later when Roy suddenly sat straight up in bed. His eyes were not wild, as they sometimes were after a nightmare, usually following a bad shift. No, she could see this was something different.

Roy looked at her and said, "We have to go. Right now."

~TBC~


	6. Unexpected Rescue

JoAnne was startled, to say the least. She put a hand on Roy's arm. "What's wrong? Where do you want to go, sweetheart?"

He did not answer as he leapt out of bed and reached for the telephone. He dialed the familiar number, and prayed Johnny would answer. He would even have been relieved to hear Melinda's voice first. He let the phone ring ten times, but there was no answer. He cursed under his breath as he hung up.

He turned to JoAnne, who was still sitting up in bed, staring at him.

"Jo, there is something wrong with Johnny. I can feel it. He needs help."

She frowned a bit, trying to put the pieces together. "I thought you said he was living with a girl. She can help him if he's in trouble, can't she?"

"Please, Jo. Trust me. We have to go. I will tell you all about it in the car. Just…" His blue eyes were pleading with her to understand.

She nodded and kissed him quickly. She did trust him. If he said John needed him, she believed him. She stood and dressed quickly, as Roy got their few things together and packed the duffle. He was headed to the door when she stopped him, amusement in her voice.

"How will you explain the fact you have no clothes on to your partner?"

Roy stopped dead, and looked down. He grinned sheepishly. "Oops."

He pulled out the clothes he had hurriedly packed, and got dressed. He quickly zipped the bag. He helped Jo with her coat, then put on his own jacket and grabbed his keys, after leaving a tip for the maid.

Jo did a quick tour of the room to make sure nothing had been forgotten. As he watched her, Roy was stabbed with a pang of guilt. He hated ruining their trip, but he knew there was no choice. He also knew Jo had already forgiven him. He pushed the thoughts aside as they headed to the Porsche.

Once they were on the freeway, Roy began to tell her the story…about how he did not trust her.

"What hit me tonight is the thing about the camping story. Jo, that woman hates the outdoors! It's one of the things that just doesn't make sense about their relationship."

Jo was quiet for a few minutes, thinking. And Roy was quiet, as he knew she needed to process what he had said.

Finally, Jo spoke. "She's abusing him," she stated flatly. Her eyes were burning with rage at the realization. "That's what woke you up tonight." It was not a question.

Roy's heart dropped as Jo stated what he knew to be true. "Yeah."

The rest of the drive was made in near silence, as Roy concentrated on getting home as quickly as possible. They shared no more of their thoughts, but each was hurting inside. Jo knew that if Roy was anywhere near as angry as she was, Melinda had no chance at all.

As they neared Los Angeles, Roy asked, "Do you want me to drop you off at home?"

Jo had been thinking about it, and knew her answer even before Roy asked.

"No. I want to go with you. My little brother might need me." Roy nodded and said no more. He had expected exactly that answer. Even though he and Johnny had not spent much time together since he had been with Melinda, Johnny was still very much a part of their family. He had no one else besides his station-mates, and though he spent most of his time on his own, he knew he always had a place with the DeSotos.

With that decision made, he headed for the road that would take them out to Johnny's ranch. It had been his dream to own it, and through an inheritance, he was finally able to afford it. The place was his pride and joy, and Roy and his family had always loved visiting him there…at least, they had before Melinda. He shuddered, afraid of what they might find when they got there. Because the closer they got, the deeper the feeling of dread became.

~E!~

Johnny lay on the mattress, completely delirious. He weakly batted at the apparitions that kept haunting him. It was if his nightmares had come to life, and he was powerless to stop them. He had never realized that Fear and Pain were not just something you felt. He could see them now, as spirits, though they appeared as real as he was. They taunted him for his stupidity. They struck at him, and he felt every blow. Finally, he could take no more, and he cried out. "Stop, please, stop!"

He came awake, and lay panting slightly. The paramedic in him took over He was coherent enough to realize that he could be dying. He groaned and turned painfully onto his side. He tried to think. He knew it had been at least three days since he had been locked in the shed, but he had lost track of time. If this was really it, he decided, it was a completely stupid way to die. Random thoughts fluttered through his brain, none really landing long enough for him to catch. His vision began to blur, and his world, such as it was, faded out completely.

~E!~

Roy and Jo pulled into the driveway of the ranch. Johnny's Rover was there, which meant the story about camping had been false. He ran to the door, and knocked. There was no answer, and he and Jo quickly circled the house, trying to see in. Nothing. He ran to the barn, and was shocked when he saw the stalls completely empty. He began to holler for Johnny, half-hoping he would find him, and half-afraid of what he would find when he did.

He spotted the shed, and the lock on the door. He didn't think anything about it at first, since John normally locked all his outbuildings…but this one looked different, and he suddenly realized why. The windows were boarded over. Why would John do that to what looked to be a brand-new structure? The feeling of dread he had been feeling now became a full-blown panic. He rushed to the Porsche and got his tire iron from the trunk.

JoAnne, her face full of fear, joined him. He broke the lock, and pulled open the door. A rush of hot, fetid air greeted him, and he stepped inside. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his partner, naked and unconscious, laying on the mattress.

There was no time for words as he gave Jo the key to John's house and asked her to phone for help. He felt nauseated and furious, but knew now was not the time. He mentally stepped back, and let the paramedic side of him take over. This was not his partner…this was just another patient in trouble. As he began his assessment, he desperately wished his heart would listen to his head.

Jo was suddenly beside him, as he was checking John's vitals. "Help is on the way. ETA is about twenty minutes."

"Okay. Get me a bottle of water and some blankets. We must warm him up, and hydrate him, if we can. I'm gonna try to wake him up in the meantime. I don't know exactly what all is wrong."

Jo nodded and left again, as quickly as she had appeared.

Roy crouched down next to his partner. "Come on, Junior, don't die on me now."

~TBC~


	7. After Effects

Roy counted it a blessing that the paramedics who showed up were not friends of his or John's. The two men were very competent, and did their jobs well, but Roy did not want to answer questions he couldn't even begin to ask himself.

He gave his keys to Jo, and asked her to bring the Porsche to the hospital. As bad as John was, he did not want to risk not being there for him when he woke up. He sat quietly in the jump seat in the ambulance, and tried to send positive energy to his partner, while praying fervently for his best friend. As he watched the paramedic working on John, another part of his mind was hard at work trying to figure out what had happened, and where Melinda had fled to. There was no doubt in his mind about what had happened. He was determined she would not get away with it.

~E!~

The ambulance jerked to a stop in the emergency bay at Rampart, pulling Roy away from his thoughts. He realized it was a blessing that they had come here, even though it had been a long trip. Johnny was going to need his friends around him after this ordeal.

As he listened to the report being given to Dr. Brackett, he heard the words, "apparent DV case." Though he had known it intuitively, it was still a shock that the words had been uttered in connection with Johnny as the victim. He then realized two things. Number One, Johnny was going to need him like never before, and Number Two…Johnny was in for a lot more pain than just physical trauma.

~E!~

Johnny opened his eyes slowly. He was aching all over, and had a horrible headache. He squinted in the dim light. Out of habit, he moved to put his arm over his eyes, but discovered he couldn't. Something was stopping him, and for a few moments his muddled brain couldn't make sense of it. He realized he was not in the shed…but he wasn't clear about exactly where he was.

A dim form materialized above him. "Welcome back, Junior. Relax. I already called Dr. Early." John blinked. Joe Early? He was in Rampart then. He frowned. The last thing he remembered was…was—what? Thinking seemed to only make his head hurt worse, so he focused instead on the voices he heard. Roy…Roy was there. He had spoken to him. And a nurse. As his vision cleared, he saw one of the nurses fussing over him.

But why was he here? What had happened? And why couldn't he remember—anything? The idea upset him. And suddenly, as Dr. Early came into view, John remembered. He knew why he was in the hospital. The odd thing was, his fall in the cooking oil hadn't seemed all that bad. He realized he had an i.v. in each arm. That also seemed strange. He examined them as best he could. Fluids in both. Huh. He looked up at Dr. Early, smiling ruefully. "What's with the two i.v.s, Doc?"

Joe smiled. "You were pretty dehydrated, John. Your electrolyte balance was really messed up. Not surprising, since you went without fluids for so long."

John looked at him blankly. "How did that happen? I drank at least two bottles of water before that run. It was really hot."

Now it was Joe and Roy's turn to stare at each other in confusion. After a moment, Joe asked, "John, what's the last thing you remember?"

John's brow wrinkled as he thought. "The response to the cooking oil spill. I fell in the oil and cracked my shoulder."

"Collarbone," Joe corrected, almost automatically.

"Okay, if you say so. But I don't remember hitting my head, so why do have this miserable headache?"

Joe hesitated, unsure of what to tell him. He was out of his depth here and he knew it. He was a neurosurgeon, not a psychiatrist. "Well…it turns out you did hit your head. You were out for a while. We need to run more tests to make sure you're okay." All true, if a bit vague. They had found a large bump on the back of his head, probably from falling at some point during his captivity. In the three days John had been in the hospital, they had done numerous test already, and had not found anything conclusive. Most of their tests, in fact, were negative.

Dixie McCall came into the room just then. She had stood outside the room long enough to get the gist of the problem. It had taken her a little while to regain control over her emotions after she had learned what had happened. She was angry and sad, but most of all, she was a professional. Right now, she masked her emotions as she made her way over to John. She reached out to brush the hair out of his eyes, a gesture she had made a thousand times over the years. But she was horrified when John flinched away from her touch, real terror in his eyes. Instead of touching him, she repositioned his pillow, and quickly left the room.

Dixie quickly made her way into the doctor's lounge, and was grateful no one else was there. She tried to pour a cup of coffee, but her hands shook so badly, she gave up. Instead, she picked up the ceramic mug and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered with a satisfying crash. Unfortunately, Kel Brackett, just coming on duty, walked in just in time to see the cup fly into the wall.

He hurried to her side and gathered her into his arms. "Dix, what is it?"

And Dixie McCall abandoned all pretense of the cool professional. She sobbed desperately for a few minutes into the comfort of Kel's protective arms. Wisely, Kel let her cry. He realized she must have heard about what had happened to Johnny. Unfortunately, though he had tried to stem the tide of gossip, most everyone had heard about what happened to Johnny. He had realized quickly after several angry tirades against the gossips he caught, that nothing would stop the talk. He just hoped John would be strong enough to handle it when he regained consciousness.

~TBC~


	8. Healing

Dixie pushed away from Kel, embarrassed by her breakdown, although she knew he was a safe haven. She felt better, but wasn't ready to resume her cool and calm persona quite yet. Kel poured them both coffee, and he gently teased her. "Wait to throw this cup till it's empty, okay?"

She gave him a slightly watery smile, and watched as the highly-skilled, highly-trained medical miracle-worker busied himself cleaning up the wall and the fragments of ceramic mug. In many ways, she would always love him…even if they never resumed their romance. He was one of the best men she knew.

Dixie sighed, thinking about how different Johnny's relationships had always been. It hurt her to see how much of himself he held back. Close relationships with women were definitely not his strong suit. She doubted he knew that she had been aware of his crush on her back in the early days of their friendship. She and Kel had been an item at the time, and Johnny was way too young for her, but she had been touched, nonetheless. He was a good man, and he deserved a good woman. _Not someone like…like that—_

"Dix, are you okay, now?" Kel's question brought her away from her dark thoughts.

She nodded slowly. "I am, thanks. I think I'll just go and wash my face before I get back to it." She rinsed her cup, and started for the door. Kel caught her sleeve and she turned to face him. Gently, he pulled her close once more.

"I'm here. Always. Don't forget that."

She smiled at him. "I know. And I love you for it."

He grinned cheekily, causing her to smile, as he had intended. "I know!"

She rolled her eyes, and headed out the door, once again the picture of calm professionalism.

~E!~

Johnny had fallen asleep, and Roy and Joe Early headed for the doctor's lounge. It was a private place to talk, and Roy had spent a lot of time over the years waiting there for news about his partner. Kel Brackett was just coming out the door of the lounge as they reached it, and he reversed direction. He needed to find out what was happening with John.

The three sat down at the round table, after they had each gotten coffee. In Kel's case, he made it half a cup, in deference to the cup he had already had. He was due in surgery in about an hour, and he didn't want to have any unnecessary distractions, such as a call of nature, plaguing him.

Joe filled Kel in on what had happened in John's room. "I'd like to call in Tim Reese. He's been working with abuse victims for a while…and his specialty is domestic violence. He is a top-notch psychologist, and I think if anyone can help John, Reese would be our best bet."

Brackett nodded. "I concur. Let me know what he has to say."

Something had been bothering Roy. "How should I deal with Johnny? I mean, what should I talk about? He seems so…" He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

Kel looked him in the eye. "The same way we handle any DV patient. Be honest, answer only the questions he asks, but don't push him. Dr. Reese will want to talk to you, and you can ask him any questions."

Joe nodded. "Look, Roy. Just be there. That's what Johnny needs right now, more than ever. I won't lie to you. He is in for a very tough fight."

Roy nodded. "We're not talking about his physical health, are we?"

Joe shook his head sadly. "No. Not at all."

The three grew silent as Roy automatically gathered and rinsed their cups. Roy then looked at the other two, his expression bleak. "He'll be fine…It just may take a while."

Brackett placed his hand on Roy's shoulder for a moment, then the two doctors left Roy sitting alone, staring at the blank television screen across the room. He sighed deeply, and decided to call JoAnne. He knew he should go home, and get some rest, but he just wasn't ready to leave Johnny on his own yet. As he headed down the hall towards the pay phones, he overheard a couple of the hospital's maintenance men chatting as they worked on a broken drinking fountain. And what he heard made his blood boil.

"Yeah, I know it's weird. Can you imagine a guy like that letting some girl beat him up? I woulda never thought it."

The other man nodded. "Let a dame try that with me, boy…but, that Gage—"

Roy stalked up to the men. He kept his voice low, but it was full of fury. "How dare you?"

The men looked at him, startled. The blond glowered at him. "You got a problem, mister?"

Roy glared at the man. "You bet I do. Gage is my partner. You know nothing about what really happened to him. Sitting around yapping about his problem is going to get you nothing but trouble. I promise you that!" He turned and walked away, leaving the two men, red-faced and angry, to their work.

~E!~

Roy had never been so angry. He forgot all about calling JoAnne. He wanted to punch something…or someone. He realized he was in no shape to see anyone, so he headed for the exit. He wanted to walk off his anger before he called his wife. Just as he reached the automatic doors, he spotted Lt. Crockett on the other side. He stopped and waited for Crockett to enter. Before he had a chance to speak, Crockett beat him to it.

"Roy, good. I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to let you know we may have a lead on finding Melinda. Someone called in with an anonymous tip. The guy said he might be willing to lead us to Johnny's horses, as long as we can guarantee that he won't be prosecuted. I agreed to meet with him to talk it over."

"Does he know where Melinda is?"

"He refused to say anything more over the phone. My impression was that he was more angry than afraid. This just might be the break we've been looking for. I need to talk to Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early. I want to know exactly what is going on with Gage, and any suggestions they might have for interrogating this guy."

Roy nodded. "I'll help any way I can. Just let me know. Johnny's in pretty rough shape. I'll let the docs tell you more. Please, you gotta find her!"

Ron Crockett nodded grimly. "You bet I will!"

~TBC~


	9. A Man Scorned

Lt. Ron Crockett stared impassively at the man sitting across the table. He was an old master at the game of interrogation, and he knew in this case, silence was his best weapon.

The man was roughly dressed and somewhat disheveled. Ron knew the man was just what he claimed to be…a roughneck. His record indicated he had served in the Army as a well-driller, and sometimes served as carnival roustabout when he was between jobs. He also owned a ranch out in the valley. He also apparently owned horses. And more specifically, he was a friend of Melinda's…or he had been, until she dragged him into what she had called a "feud" with her boyfriend, one John Gage, Paramedic for Los Angeles County.

As Crockett had figured, it took little time for James "Finn" Finnegan to start talking.

He had agreed to help Melinda take back some horses her boyfriend had apparently bought for her, and then kept. She had paid him $500. to pick up the four horses and move them onto his ranch. And then, she had promptly disappeared, leaving him to care for the horses. That had been nearly two weeks ago. He was out of money and out of patience. The kicker had been when Finn had heard a report on the news about a paramedic being injured at his own ranch. No specifics were given, but Finn was no fool, and he had quickly figured out the paramedic had to be Melinda's boyfriend.

James Finnegan was angry. He had done some asking around, and discovered that Melinda had already hooked up with another man. She was living with him in his condo out near the beach. He had not tried to contact her, because he didn't want her running again. He had realized she was a thief and a con artist, and, quite possibly, dangerous as hell. And so, he had called in the tip to the police.

Finn completed his statement, giving as many details as he could. It was not until after he signed it that he looked at Crockett. "So, what happens to me?"

Ron thought about it for a moment. "Well, you have Mr. Gage's horses. Are they all in good health?"

Finn nodded. "They sure are. And I would be happy to get them off my hands. I have enough livestock to feed without worrying about somebody else's horses."

"All right. I think I can work a deal for you. We won't press charges on the theft of the horses, as long as you help us nail Melinda, and you return the horses."

Without hesitation, Finn nodded. "Deal."

~E!~

Roy had keys to Johnny's ranch, as he sometimes brought his family to housesit for him. Therefore, it was only logical that he was the one who waited at the ranch for Johnny's horses to be returned. His shift-mates had volunteered to come and help clean up Johnny's house, and, most importantly, after Lt. Crockett had released the scene, they had torn down Melinda's "studio," and hauled away the remnants to the dump. After Roy had talked it over with Dr. Reese and Dr. Brackett, they all agreed that, regardless of how Johnny's memories played out, that was not something he needed to see again.

Roy stood out in the yard, gazing at the empty corrals. He understood the sense of peace his partner felt by being in this place, by raising his horses. Roy didn't know a lot about Johnny's life before they had met, but he knew that his partner had never felt completely comfortable living in the city. He knew that Johnny treasured his time on the ranch. He was connected to this place.

What worried him now was that, because of Melinda, Johnny may have lost that tranquility forever. What would happen when, as Dr. Reese had explained, he did recover his memories? How would he deal with the trauma? Johnny was strong…he had always been strong-willed, if a bit reckless, but nothing had prepared him, or any of them, to handle this situation. Mentally, Roy kicked himself for not intervening sooner _. He had known the relationship had been wrong almost from the start. He had seen Johnny get himself in trouble for being late—seriously late—for work several times. And he had done nothing, said nothing. Because he had been afraid._ Roy was honest with himself. _He hadn't wanted to believe it could happen…especially to a man. In his experience, DV was something men did to women. Sometimes a mom would abuse her children…he'd been on those heart-wrenching calls more than once; but women just didn't beat up on men. Oh, he was not naïve, he knew it happened. But, to have it happen to someone so close to him, someone he considered his brother..._

Roy pushed away his melancholy thoughts as he heard an engine. He turned away from the corrals, and watched the horse-trailer and truck pull into the driveway. He directed the truck into the yard, and watched a big, burly man with a shock of blond hair step out from behind the wheel. He looked to Roy as if he had stepped straight from a John Wayne movie. But Roy could not bear the sight of the cowboy. He had been the one who had helped Melinda with her evil scheme. Part of him understood that the man had come to try to make things right. He got that. But nothing would ever be right for his partner again. And this man had been partly responsible. Roy was not entirely sure he could keep himself from committing some violence of his own, so he silently opened the corral gate, and motioned for the man to get on with his task…which he did, avoiding Roy as much as possible.

Finn understood. He knew there wasn't much he could say, but, as he started to open the cab door, he said it anyway. He looked at the sandy-haired man regarding him coldly. "I'm sorry."

Roy nodded, and turned away. Finn pulled himself into truck. And he headed towards the beach. He had located the house Melinda was living in. He knew the cops were still looking for it. Finn would make amends to the young paramedic in the only way he could. He would nail Melinda. He knew her, too well. She would hire a slick lawyer and serve no time. It had happened before. It would never happen again. Not on his watch. He reached under the seat and caressed his .357.

~TBC~


	10. Justice

When Dixie came to visit Johnny early the next morning, she found him staring at the ceiling. After she had finished checking him out, she looked at him with concern. He had been very quiet when she had checked on him before she went off shift last night.

"What's wrong, Johnny?"

He crossed his arms behind his head. "Just thinkin'."

"What about?"

Slowly he turned to look at her. "I had a nightmare. I woke up sweating, but I remember everything."

Dixie placed her hand gently on his arm. "I'm sorry, love."

John glanced up at her, startled by the unfamiliar endearment.

He pulled his arms back to his sides, and then hid his face with his arm, in a heartbreakingly familiar gesture. Dixie knew he was trying to block out the memories, even more than the light.

"What the hell is wrong with me, Dix? Why couldn't I walk away?" His words were muffled, but she could hear the pain. He moved his arm to stare helplessly at his friend.

This time, when Dixie brushed his hair away from his forehead, Johnny didn't flinch away. He simply shut his eyes, and let her comfort soak into his bruised soul.

Softly, she whispered, "I don't know, love. I don't know. But, I do know that there are lots of people who do love you. _I_ love you. And I'm gonna be right here whenever you need me."

John said nothing, and finally, Dixie broke the silence. "Your horses are all safe and waiting for you at your ranch. Lt. Crockett can give you the details."

A ghost of a smile traced over John's lips, but he still said nothing. After a few minutes, Dixie realized he had fallen asleep. She left and went to find Kel Brackett…

~E!~

Lt. Crockett got the call. There was a report of a man with a gun holding hostages at a residence near Malibu. This was not in his jurisdiction, and it usually would not have even come across his desk. But it was the name of the perp that got it flagged. James "Finn" Finnegan. He ran for his car. They had just located Melinda. He would bet his life on it.

He got the particulars over the radio as he sped to the scene. Apparently, Finnegan had broken into the house where Melinda Evers was living with her boyfriend. He had a handgun, and was holding the two hostage. Crockett cursed under his breath. He should have known Finnegan would pull something like this!

He pulled up to the scene, where three police cars were already in place. He hustled up to the OIC. "I got the basics on the way here. Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah. The perp just let the boyfriend go. Not a scratch on him. Finnegan still has the girl inside. He won't talk to us. The boyfriend's name is Simmons, Jeff Simmons. We ran a check on him, he came back with a couple of priors, but nothing outstanding."

Crockett nodded. "Thanks. I'll go talk to him." He made his way over to the police car where the vic was seated in the back with the door open. The man sitting there looked angry and extremely shaken.

The first words out of Simmons's mouth were, "I figured she was crazy, but I had no clue others around her were nuts, too!"

Crockett nodded sympathetically. "I assume you weren't harmed physically?"

"No, I wasn't. Not by him, but I was getting ready to throw her out just before he showed up. We got into an argument, and you know what that crazy broad did?"

"She belted you?" Crockett guessed.

Simmons nodded ruefully. "You know what she did."

Crockett told him, "Not the first time. Believe me. She's wanted for assault, along with several other charges."

Simmons sighed. "I should've known better. I don't usually pick up chicks in bars, but.…" He shrugged.

Crockett smiled. "Just remember that next time."

Simmons nodded. "I will, believe me!"

Crockett turned to a nearby officer. "I want a complete statement from this man. Also, make sure he gets checked out by a doctor. I want to make sure he's okay. Also, I believe he is planning on pressing charges against Ms. Evers."

The young officer nodded grimly. "Yes, sir." He moved towards Simmons, notebook in hand.

~E!~

Ron Crockett moved up next to the OIC. The man had a bullhorn in hand, and Crockett gestured to it. "Been trying to talk him down?"

The man nodded. "No luck so far."

"Mind if I try?"

"Be my guest." The OIC handed over the bullhorn, and Lt. Crockett raised it to his lips.

"Finnegan, this is Lt. Crockett. You listening to me?"

There was silence for a short time, and then, "Yeah, I hear you, but it won't do you any good. I came here to stop her from hurting anybody else, and that's what I aim to do."

Crockett shook his head reflexively. "No, James, don't do it! If you do, then she wins! Don't you see that? She might be dead, but your life is ruined forever! She wins!"

There was a long silence, and Crockett was afraid he might have lost Finnegan.

"What guarantees do I have that she'll get convicted and actually serve time? That she won't just do this again?"

"No guarantees. But there is a very good chance she will be convicted, that she will serve time. Problem is, you're turning her into a victim if you do this. Is that how you want her remembered? As your victim?"

The silence was longer this time, and Crockett prayed Finnegan had truly heard what he said. The OIC shook his head and whispered, "I have a man lined up on the perp. We can take a kill shot if we need it."

Ron vehemently shook his head, and whispered back, "Give me a few more minutes. I think I can talk him out."

The OIC nodded doubtfully. "Okay, but there is too much at stake. I'll give you five minutes. That's it. Then I have to give the order."

Crockett nodded. "James, come on," he called. "It's time to come out now. Let me help you."

Nothing. Crockett was afraid Finnegan wasn't listening. Then, there was movement at the door as it slowly opened, just a crack. "Somebody come get this worthless piece of garbage! I won't shoot."

Cautiously, Crockett advanced until he was close enough to pull the terrified woman away from Finnegan. He handed her off to the nearest officer, who immediately arrested her, and took her to an ambulance to be checked out. Surprisingly, Melinda said not a word. Apparently, she was in shock.

Ron had not taken his eyes off James Finnegan, who now held the gun under his own chin.

"Come on, Finn. That's not the answer."

"My life ain't worth a plugged nickel, and you know it. Just make sure she gets what she deserves."

Crockett nodded. He wanted desperately to save this man's life. He was a good man at heart, and Crockett wanted nothing more than to see him realize it.

"She will. But don't give up. Don't let her win. She wants you dead. Don't do it."

Finnegan appeared to be considering his words, so Crockett pressed on. "Besides, that young paramedic? He's okay, but how do you think he's gonna feel when he finds out you did this? That you're dead, for no reason?"

Finn shook his head. "After what I did? He ain't gonna give a damn. He'll be happy I'm dead."

"No, Finn, you're wrong. He is upset you stole his horses, but he would never want you dead. I promise you that."

Suddenly, Finn's eyes showed his weariness and sorrow, and he lowered the gun and handed it to Crockett, who immediately handed it off to another officer, and cuffed Finnegan. He read him his rights as they walked. Crockett took him to a patrol car and helped him into the back seat. And James Finnegan began his journey back to prison.

Crockett shook his head in disgust. _If only they had found her address sooner! If only…_ No, he was not traveling that road. _Finnegan had made the wrong choices, just as Melinda had._ And now he would pay for it. He watched as Melinda was loaded into another patrol car. _They both would._

~TBC~


	11. Survivor

Johnny stood watching his horses. He walked through their stalls, petting each one. It was sunset, and he had just finished settling them in for the night. They were quiet and content, and seemed happy just to spend time with their human companion. It had been nearly a month since he had returned home, and he was going back to work next shift.

On one hand, he was glad to get back to the station, but on the other, he was not sure how he felt about being around the others. He was sure his friends had his back, but he had heard the rumors, even while he had been in the hospital. He was not stupid. He would have to have been deaf and blind, not to have seen the looks people shot him every time they came into his room.

The only people who didn't treat him any differently were Dixie, Dr. Early and Roy. Even Dr. Brackett sometimes had a hard time looking him in the eye. And Johnny understood. That was the problem. He really did understand, because, if it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have gotten it either. He also knew that things would eventually settle back into at least a semblance of normal.

He had seen a staff psychologist a few times, but it hadn't done much good. The guy was used to working with women. He was at least honest about that. He had never had a male patient. In fact, most of their sessions wound up in either silent awkwardness, or talking about sports scores. Since the department was paying for the sessions, Johnny was relieved when he was released after the fourth session.

It was Mike Stoker who helped the most, when he had come to visit two weeks after John had been released. He had come out, and the two had spent the day on horseback, riding around the property. John had been surprised at Mike's skill with horses. Typically, the engineer simply shrugged, and said he had learned as a kid, and left it at that.

After they had cleaned up after lunch, which they ate up on an overlook above the ranch, Mike made a suggestion. "Look, I would bet you have a lot you want to say to Melinda. You will never be able to move on until you say it." John's expression darkened immediately and Mike held up a hand. "Don't misunderstand me. I am not saying you should try to see her. Not at this point, anyway, if ever. What I'm thinking is, you should write her a letter. Put it all in there. Everything. All that you're thinking and feeling. Don't hold anything back."

Bitterly, John said, "What good is that gonna do? She's in jail. They'll never let me give it to her."

Steadily, Mike held Johnny's gaze. "That's not the point. _You're_ the point. John, you have to begin to heal. And you can't do that until you forgive yourself. And you can't forgive yourself until you get past the hate and the anger." His voice shook, and John swore he saw tears glisten in his normally stoic friend's eyes. "Until you realize that nothing that happened was your fault." Mike suddenly turned away and stood up, going to stroke his horse's muzzle.

Johnny was not dumb. "Mike, you wanna talk about it?"

Mike shook his head, but did not turn around. "No. Just…it was different. But pretty much the same principle." After a moment, he scrubbed his hand over his face and turned back to face Johnny. "You have to forgive yourself, or you _will_ go crazy. I promise you that."

And Mike swung into the saddle and cantered down the hill, leaving a stunned Johnny staring after him.

~E!~

That evening, Johnny sat at his desk, a notebook open in front of him, pen lying next to it. He had thought all day about what to write. He and Mike had not talked much after the conversation at lunch, but they had enjoyed riding, and Mike had surprised him by showing off some trick riding moves in the corral not long before they had grilled some steaks for dinner.

He shook his head. He had known Mike for a long time now, but felt like he barely knew him at all…and he realized for the first time Mike kept it that way on purpose. After their conversation on the overlook, he knew he had a friend who understood his situation, but he was also determined to be there for Mike, if he ever would let him in. Because, although he had given good advice, Johnny had his doubts about whether Mike had entirely forgiven himself…

He settled down, and picked up his pen:

 _Melinda,_

 _I doubt you will ever get this letter, and I don't really care if you do. What I don't get is why? Why did you do it? You are such a physically beautiful girl, you could make a guy happy, and you could have a good life. So why do you have to hurt people? Why did you have to hurt ME? Why did you have to humiliate me?_

 _There was no good reason for it. No excuse. That's what I keep coming back to. At first, I thought I had done something to deserve it. Part of it is that I am scared of settling down with one woman, because she'll leave when she decides I'm not good enough. I won't measure up. That's_ _m_ _y hang-up._

 _But you…no, that's not what's going on with you. I did_ _not_ _deserve what you did to me. You are just plain mean and crazy. I should have walked away. But I just didn't. It was easier to stay. It was easier to take your abuse, so that I wouldn't have to move on to someone else who would dump me, or who I would end up dumping. I was tired of the game. And so, I stayed—too long. I knew it made no sense at all. So did you. But you knew I would stay. That was part of your game…your power._

 _But I have learned something. That power, that game, is different for everyone who plays it. That_ _game_ _is domestic violence. I've seen it too many times in my job. IT IS ABUSE. And I REFUSE to be your victim._

 _Melinda, you lose. YOU—LOSE!_

 _I AM A SURVIVOR._

 _John Roderick Gage_

And Johnny laid down his pen and switched off the desk lamp.

~The End~

A/N: Thank you to all my wonderful readers who have stuck with me through this long and sometimes painful journey. Thank you, too, to the family and friends who walked through my own escape from darkness and journey into the light. I AM A SURVIVOR. Hugs!


	12. Epilogue: Another Letter

A/N: At the request of several readers who wanted to know more about what happened to Melinda, and a little more about Mike's story, here is an epilogue…

~E!~

Nearly six months have passed since they shipped Melinda off to prison. John is doing remarkably well. There were a few isolated incidents, but between Roy and Dr. Brackett, they shut down the rumor mill pretty quickly.

There was some publicity, but again, Gage dealt with it. At first, the department was gonna sort of push it under the rug, because it was hard to publicly admit that one of their men was a DV victim, but then Gage got smart and hired Barney Olsen. After that, it went pretty much as you'd expect. The department wasn't happy at the prospect of a trial. So, the lawyers sat down and hammered out a deal. But it was a good one, as far as Gage was concerned. Melinda did not just get a slap on the wrist. She ended up going to jail for six years. She could have gotten twice that if it had gone to trial, but there was a major risk that a jury would have let her off. So, John accepted the deal. And life began to return to normal at Station 51. Except that it didn't.

Well, it did for most of the guys, even for Johnny. I know, because we used to talk about it a lot at first, and then, as he started feeling more comfortable and adjusting to what had happened, not so often. The last time we talked about it was a month ago. We were off-shift, and sitting in my apartment, not-watching a football game. We had cracked a few beers, and talked, mostly about the ranch, and work, and a bit about Melinda. Finally, John stood up, deciding the beer had worn off and he could drive safely. I walked him to the door, and decided he was right.

He turned, and clapped me on the shoulder. "Thanks, man. Thanks for bein' there."

I smiled. "Anytime, my friend."

I watched the door shut behind him, and I dropped into my recliner, the memories flooding me.

~E!~

The guys like to tease me about the fact I am so quiet. They would never have recognized me as a toddler. Even I can remember being a chatterbox. I was always full of questions. I wanted to know everything about everything. The world was full of wonder, and I was so excited to be a part of it. And my mother made sure that I was.

As I grew, my world was full of color and light and music and magic and plants…everything! I remember a trip to the zoo one Sunday when I was seven. I had decided I wanted an elephant, of all things… so my mother took me by the hand and we marched up to one of the zookeepers, and she took out her wallet, and asked him how much they wanted for the elephant. We laughed at the confused look on his face!

I remember that trip vividly, because that was the last time I went anywhere with my mother. A stranger was waiting for me when I got home from school the next day. He showed me a badge and told me I had to come with him, and that someone would bring some things from my house for me. When I asked where my mother was, he told me she had been killed in a car accident on her way home from the market.

Later I figured out that when they had run a check, they had discovered I was her only living relative. She always told me I was her whole world and she was mine…and she had meant it. There was no father listed on my birth certificate. She had listed her name as my last name. Her parents had died before I was born, and I was her only child, same as she was an only child.

And so, just like that, the light in my world dimmed to grey. I was sent to several foster homes over the next few years, and then…to the last one. I was 11. And I went through three years of hell before I finally got desperate enough to run. He had threatened me if I did, but I couldn't take it anymore.

I wound up on the streets for a couple of weeks, until I got taken in by the cops, and placed at a boy's ranch out in the Valley. I really liked it there, but the damage was done. I had never spoken a word, from the time shortly after I arrived at the hellhole until I left the ranch. They all just assumed I was mute. They didn't know he had simply terrified my voice out of me.

It's one reason I love horses so much. They couldn't care less whether you talk or not. They just let you be you. Silence works very well for them. And it was at the ranch that I learned to ride and care for horses. One of the hands had been a rodeo rider, and he even taught me how to trick ride. I spent all my time with the horses, to the point that I withdrew completely from people. But, I never caused any trouble, so they just let me alone. In their defense, there were a lot of boys there, with all sorts of problems, and one quiet kid slipped through the cracks pretty easily.

But…I was not just silent. I was angry, and full of rage, and pain, and hate. And I had no way to express it. And that was killing me. I should have confronted the source. I should have acknowledged what that bastard did to me. But I never did.

When I was fifteen, I attempted suicide. One of the ranch hands got careless and forgot to lock up a pistol after he cleaned it. After he left the room, I loaded it, and sat down on the floor right there in the office, held it my head and pulled the trigger.

The director walked in just as the gun misfired.

I got transferred to county mental health for six months that day.

And there I met Megan Stiles. Her name tag said she was a psychologist. Eventually, I figured out she was an angel. When I left there, I never went back to the foster system, because Megan and her husband, Rob adopted me. They gave me the option of taking their name legally, but they understood that my name was all I had left of my mother.

It was not easy, and it didn't happen overnight, but they did help me get through what had happened. Most of it. But one thing I had never been able to do was the one thing I had told Gage he had to do—I had never been able to forgive the man who had attacked me. I had acknowledged what he did. I had faced it. But, as I had explained to Johnny, forgiving and forgetting are two different things.

No one can be expected to just forget. That is not only impossible, it is unrealistic, and could be dangerous. On the other hand, if you do not forgive, the bitterness will eventually eat your soul. And your abuser will win.

~E!~

I sat in my recliner in the dark for hours that night, struggling. I finally admitted to myself that I had been struggling for the past six months because I was not taking my own advice. I had never forgiven Leroy Fetterson for the horrors he had inflicted on me. And John's situation had brought the whole thing to the forefront for me.

Finally, I hunted around until I found an old notepad and a pen and I sat back down and switched on the lamp. In a shaky hand, I began to write:

 _Leroy:_

 _You would never recognize the man I am today. I have found my voice. I am proud of what…of who, I am. What's more, others are proud of me, too. I am important. I make a difference._

 _You thought you could beat that out of me. You thought you could take that away from me. You thought by humiliating me and violating me, you could destroy me._ You _were wrong._

 _For years, I believed your crap. I believed I was nothing. I believed I was damaged goods. I believed I had no right to a voice. And so, I stayed silent. I even tried to finish what you started._

 _But, I discovered you were the one who was damaged goods. And I found my voice. And there are others out there that need to know they are_ _not_ _damaged goods. That they matter. And I am going to be the one to tell them. We must forgive in order to move on. Not for the other person, but to free ourselves._

 _So, you see, Leroy, in_ _every_ _way, you lose. Because, even though I have days when I wake up hurting so badly I can't breathe, I get through them. I pick up my foot and take that next step. Because I can't NOT take it. Because if I give up now, you win. And I will NEVER let you win._

 _After I finish this letter, I will burn it, and place the ashes in a jar. I will visit Longview Cemetery and scatter them over your grave._ And I will return home, and get ready for my next shift.

 _Leroy Fetterson, from the bottom of my heart, I FORGIVE YOU._

 _Michael J. Stoker_

~The End~

A/N: To all of my readers, and especially to anyone who is a survivor, or knows someone who needs to hear Mike's words… MY words, please…share them. We _must_ be there for each other. Hugs…


End file.
